The Prince's Bride
by Alpha-Starr
Summary: A typical fairytale, not unlike the variety written by Grimm... except the "fair damsel" is actually a guy in a dress. Prince Dirk travels the world, in search of a bride. She must pass three tests to marry him. The poor shepherd Jake falls madly in love with the prince, and aspires to compete. DirkJake with a side of pale AradiaJake.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: Features romantic!Dirk/Jake with a healthy side of pale!Aradia/Jake. This is borderline pale pornography here, and may possibly contain actual pornography (not sure yet). This is so self-indulgent. THE most self-indulgent fanfic I have ever written. And it's so long-winded. The word count is... over 9000. ;) I have no excuse for it. I hope you enjoy it, anyways, haha! XD

**Disclaimer**: Much like the fairytales of old,  
Here is merely a story told.  
Homestuck is Hussie's property,  
It clearly does not belong to me.

* * *

Long, long ago, in a far away land, there was a poor shepherd boy who lived in a small but busy village, not far from the home of a Duke. This boy had not always been a peasant, for he was once the son of a Lord, until his mother died of illness and his father perished in war. The noble grandmother who had taken him in afterwards was also, most unfortunately, dead; her title had been usurped and all her wealth, too. The boy soon found himself relocated to the new Countess's feudal master's estate as but a common shepherd, where nobody recognized the noble name of Jake English.

However, it was clear to anyone who looked at him closely enough that Jake was no ordinary peasant. The fact that he'd been born into the life of a fine courtesan was clear, once somebody noticed his small hands, not quite as roughened with work as some of the other boys', or perhaps his vertically challenged stature and almost-effeminate figure. He spoke with a vocabulary so strange and unheard of, very few could hold conversation with him for the slang; he utterly lacked the village folks' good, common sense; he had no practical skills, other than his ability to shoot a bow and arrow with deadly accuracy (a family secret, learned from his grandmother). His eyes, however, made his lineage a dead giveaway: they were the exact shade of emeralds, brilliantly bright and veritably royal.

But nobody quite paid enough attention to this shepherd boy to notice that he really must have been the son of a Lord, and so each day he went about his work, leading his sheep from where he lived just north of town, down to where the greenest and sweetest pastures were, just south of town.

Jake's dream, however, was not at all the way he lived his life. Indeed, it was frequently he took mental reprieve from reality to travel the world from within his head, dreaming in the fields as he waited for his sheep to take their fill. Having never seen even a single penny of his inheritance, Jake was most unfortunately far too poor to adventure as he wished. He was, effectively, stuck in the town that was his home.

Now, impoverished though he was, Jake rarely ever went hungry, thanks to some gifts from the heir to the fairy throne, the good Prince John. Once upon a time, Jake had been apprenticed to a well-known knight with whom John was good friends, up until his parents' deaths. Both were fond of him, and so gifted him a pitcher, a quiver, and an ivy wreath when he ceased being this knight's page upon his return home to mourn his parents. These three items were magical.

The pitcher was enchanted to be bottomless, and to contain whichever non-alcoholic beverage its owner ordered from it. The beverages were non-alcoholic in particular, because John did not approve of youthful intoxication by liquor. Jake even made a game of it, by asking for a surprise drink every so often. Sometime he was given plain drinks, like water or simple cider. At other times, he got strange, exotic juices or even peculiarly fizzy, extremely sweet drinks which, for simplicity's sake when ordering, he referred to as "pop".

The quiver, too, had an enchantment to always be full of arrows, each honed to perfect sharpness. Paired with his grandmother's supple, lightweight archery bow, Jake would only have to think that he wanted meat, and travel to the woods south of the pasture, which was owned by no-one. In those woods, there was a wolf with fur of pure white, and Jake made it a habit to deter it from eating his sheep by feeding it little treats, like rabbits and cuts of deer. He was friendly with this wolf, which he called "Halley", and considered him the closest thing he had to a family. Why, indeed, Jake even took to calling himself "Jake Halley" after his good wolf/best friend... though, thanks to a speech impediment, it sounded much more like "Harley".

Without those two gifts, Jake would have probably died years ago. He was not a very bright boy, and would have otherwise had no idea how to obtain the items his pitcher and quiver provided.

The ivy wreath, probably the least useful of his gifts, was enchanted to stay forever green, as long as no leaves were lost. Jake hadn't the foggiest idea what else to use it for, so he usually just wore it. Secretly, though he didn't know it, the wreath actually contained a good-luck charm, one that would aid in creating convenient coincidences and such for its wearer.

It was one such coincidence that, one evening when Jake was herding his sheep back home, he heard the town crier hollering in the half-lit streets:  
"Hear ye, hear ye,  
A prince there be!  
In the morn he'll arrive  
In search of a bride  
To carry away 'cross the sea!"

Jake's curiosity was deeply piqued by the announcement, for this town was usually very boring and princes did not visit every day. With great vigor, he inquired, "I say, good chap, what's this about a prince?"

The town crier replied,  
"From a far-away Germanic land,  
Comes this famously valiant man  
Three contests he'll make  
To choose which bride he'll take  
Then in marriage, he'll claim her hand."

"Golly, thanks for the explanation!" Jake exclaimed. "A prince! Coming here, of all places, to find a bride! How terribly exciting, don't you agree? Why, and all the way from the Germanys, too, so I daresay such a fellow must be well-traveled indeed! I do hope he tells us regular townsfolk all the news from lands afar. It's a terribly romantic idea for some lucky lady to be swept off her feet by a prince who I'm certain is quite dashing! Why, I myself would gladly allow myself to be wed and taken away if it meant traveling even half as far as the Germanys! What do you think about it, my compatriot?"

Jake suddenly realized he was speaking to naught but empty air. In his relatively long-winded monologue, the town crier had fled.

"Oh, not again!" Jake sighed to himself frowning deeply. This always happened, every time he opened his gosh consarned mouth. "Drat!"

With the town crier's news on his mind, Jake continued to herd his sheep back to his abode, a small barn on the very outskirts of town. All the way there, he thought about how adventurous that prince must be, traveling so far from home in search of a wife. How romantic the notion was, to marry a prince and travel all the world with him! It was half-tempting to give it a try himself, but Jake knew that was impossible- he was no maiden, after all.

The next morning, Jake rose with the sun and led his sheep back into town on his usual route, but he was blocked by a terribly huge crowd right near the local Baron's manor. Gathering his sheep extra close so he wouldn't lose any of them, Jake craned his neck to see what all the fuss was about. He was just about to give up when a horse trotted up on top of the stage for announcements, lifting its rider into Jake's line of vision.

He was tall, Jake could tell that much, though he wasn't quite sure how much taller this stranger was in comparison to himself. The man's hair was just the color of spun gold, and his features both sharp and elegant, from what Jake could see of them- the stranger's eyes were hidden by a peculiar visor that seemed to be shaped into a triangularish form from stained glass. His crown said he was royalty, but his plate armor said he was a warrior as well, the breastplate embossed in maroon stone forming a heart-shaped symbol that must have been his country's emblem.

Jake swallowed the lump in his throat. He was stricken by love at first sight.

The prince rubbed at his eye underneath the strangely shaped glass, and Jake felt a pang of pity for the guy. If he hadn't been here last night, and he was here this morning, the poor fellow probably spent most of the night traveling, which almost indubitably made him tired. Then, the prince cleared his throat, and all those who'd gathered quieted. Jake noticed there were a whole lot more people than usual, mostly ladies who'd traveled here from far and wide just for the chance to compete. Then, the prince began to speak, and all other thought flew straight out of Jake's head at the sound of that beautiful baritone.

"Salutations," said a voice with a drawling, subtle accent from a land so far, Jake didn't even know where to place it. "I am Prince Diedrick Schrittwer, hailing from the Kingdom Lotak. I have come to this land in search of a bride, and will be holding a series of contests over the next three days to find her."

Jake thought he heard a wistful sigh, and realized, to his abhorrence, that _he'd_ been the one to make that sound. He quickly put the idea of entering these contests from his mind, knowing that there was no way Prince Diedrick could ever want to wed a chap like himself.

"I have devised three challenges that my future wife must be able to complete," the prince continued, his tiredness making him sound a bit sharp. "Be warned, for I have been halfway around the world and not even one girl has successfully passed all three. The first contest is in gentility, as well as, to some extent, elegance. I request that all hopeful competitors clothe themselves moderately nicely, and return to this place in the early evening with a pitcher of whatever drink you choose and a lit candle. I'll see you then."

The prince dismissed the crowd by trotting his horse off the stage and retreating to talk to the baron for a short while. Jake's eyes didn't leave him until he'd vanished into the manor, presumably to go get some sleep, watching broad shoulders and peculiarly cut hair from the back. Not until the heart-branded flank of his majestic white steed was completely out of sight did Jake return to leading his sheep out to the pasture.

On his way there, just as he passed outside the town's boundaries, Jake began to think- a dangerous avocation, indeed, for a fellow as unaccustomed to thinking as Jake was. The more he thought, the more his heart weighed heavy in his chest, and it eventually began to ache. He'd realized that, more apt than not, he would never see the prince who'd so captured his affection again after the contest was through and done with in this town. If he found a lass here and married her, still would he continue to travel, and perhaps he would return one or twice to allow his wife to see her relations. But if he found no wife, there would be no reason for him to return, and he would continue searching.

Jake would not have stood for to see his prince married to someone else- but alas! If Prince Diedrick found no bride in this county, he would find one in another. Jake was already horribly, horribly envious of such a person, and wished with all his might to become her. For the first time, he cursed his masculinity, and prayed to become a maiden so that he may have a chance to be with the man he so loved. By the time he reached the pasture, tears were dripping down his cheeks. He hadn't even the clothes of a maiden or more than a tiny nub of a candle to bring to the competition- what could he do but sit amid his sheep and weep?

It was hopeless. Jake's heart hurt so much, he thought he might die of it.

Now, it just so happened that there was a fairy passing through this particular field, one whose personality was marked by friendliness and optimism. Her special talent (the variety that all fairies have) was death, but she was no agent of the dark. She took it upon herself to comfort the bereaved, those left behind by tragedy, and often gave them support while in disguise and secret charms to help them along. Clad in bravehearted red, she was an adventurer, her work taking her far and wide. This fairy, whose name was Aradia, sensed Jake's intense grief, and immediately flew over to see its cause.

"Hark! My good shepherd," she exclaimed, flitting up to him on ruby-colored wings. "I couldn't help but hear your sobs, and my heart cries out for you. What ails you so?"

Jake knew that fairies looked upon all varieties of love kindly, and Aradia had asked him so sweetly and with such friendliness he couldn't help but reply, "I am very desperately in love with a prince, so that my heart must be tearing itself to shreds over him, for it hurts so much. But, he is holding a bunch of contests to choose a bride, and the first round is this very evening! By the end of it all, I've no doubt he will be married to someone else or he will travel elsewhere, and I shall never see him again!"

At this, Jake began to cry again, the true hopelessness of the situation hitting him now that he had actually said the words out loud, as if by saying it he had made them more concrete. Aradia took pity on the poor lad.

"Don't worry, friend! I have fairy-magic, and I'll give you any help I can," she offered generously. "I'm not as powerful or well-schooled as a royal fairy, or even a lord, but I think I can make you appear as a woman, and a beautiful one, too. What is the first feat you must accomplish for this contest?"

"I haven't the vaguest idea," Jake replied with heavy disappointment, rubbing tears from his face. "I daresay he was very cryptic about it. The test is for elegance and gentility. I'm not even certain I understand what that even _means_! I _do_ know that I need a fairly nice dress and a pitcher and a lit candle. I own a pitcher, but I have neither the clothes nor more than the burnt end of a candle."

"Oh, that's easy!" Aradia exclaimed happily. "I can help you obtain both without much trouble. If you could give me the end of a candle, a sliver of soap, and the wool from your sheep, I can make you look as if you'd lived a lady all your days!"

"If your claims are true, I will be eternally grateful towards you, my good dame," Jake thanked her. "Surely there must be something I can do in return! I haven't much, but if there is anything I can do..."

"I don't need any thanks," Aradia smiled back cheerfully. "But you're welcome all the same! Actually, there _is_ something I would like to request from you, but-"

"Anything," Jake cut her off insistently.

"Well," Aradia averted her eyes and shrugged a little. "On the condition that you actually win this contest you speak of, I'd kind of like to take over your job as shepherd. I love sheep!"

"Say no more, my good lady," Jake replied, much relieved. He'd feared it was something not in his power to give her. "It shall be done."

"Fantastic!" Aradia answered gladly, and then she took the soap and the candle nub Jake offered her.

As if she was reversing the change done to the items over time, with her magic, Aradia made the soap grow in size until it was as thick a lump as it had been the very day it was made. The candle, too, seemed to melt in reverse, the flame flickering up and continuing to unmelt until it was once more a full candlestick, very nearly four inches tall and as thick as Jake's wrist. He gawped at the impressive show of magic.

"Golly gee, that was some neat magic you did there!" Jake exclaimed in awe.

"Haha, don't mention it," said Aradia, handing him the soap. "Now, go bathe yourself in the stream over there, and make sure you scrub off all the dirt there is on your body. While you do that, I'll make cloth for your dress from the sheep's wool."

"Yes, ma'am," Jake verily agreed, before doing exactly as she bade. Once the dirt was all scrubbed away, Jake discovered that his skin was actually very soft and fairer than he'd thought it had been. Indeed, without the pervasive layer of filth that previously covered his flesh, Jake looked little like himself.

Once he returned, Aradia already had heaping piles of cloth waiting him, and though he knew that they were, in fact, the wool from his now-bald sheep, they were charmed to look and feel exactly like velvet, or silk, or Egyptian cotton, or any other cloth Jake could imagine.

"I made lots of cloth to dress you in," Aradia said, looking at Jake with a critical eye. "But I think you'd look especially good in a green dress! Maybe, if you gave me that wreath you are wearing for a couple minutes, I could use it to change the cloth's color!"

"Why, certainly!" Jake agreed, having no idea what was fashionable or not and going with Aradia's judgement.

He passed her the wreath, and she began to push an armful of velvet through the loop. However, unbeknownst to either of them, a single leaf caught in the folds of fabric and snapped off, the green of the ivy starting to fade slowly. Before it could affect the color of the cloth, the entire ream of velvet was green, just the perfect color to match Jake's stunning eyes.

Then, Aradia wrapped a sheet of white linen around Jake's body and made him a petticoat and chemise with her magic, using a trick she had developed with her friend, Kanaya, a fairy with particular talent for fashion. To be exact, one that fast-forwarded the cloth's temporal properties until it reached a point in its future where it became an article of clothing. She did this again with the velvet to form a full-skirted ballgown with sickle-shaped shoulder pads that lay over the tight-fitting, elbow-length shirt beneath it; immediately afterwards, she fabricated a pair of velvet-and-felt shoes. Finally, she outfitted him with a pair of short silk gloves. It was only a quick comb-down of Jake's hair before Aradia was finished.

"There we go!" she smiled at him, tucking a wayward lock behind his ear. "Look at yourself... you make a very pretty girl, indeed!"

Jake peered into the stream to see himself, and, surely enough, he appeared as a veritable lady, all signs of his masculinity hidden.

He grinned back, "Indubitably, ma'am! I do ever so hope the prince agrees with your assessment."

"Speaking of that, you should probably get to your contest!" Aradia exclaimed, lighting Jake's candle for him and waving him away. "Don't worry about your sheep; I'll take care of them for you!"

Jake did as she bade, hurrying away back into town, carrying his skirts to keep them out of the dirt and haphazardly balancing the pitcher in the folds of his dress. His other hand, of course, was occupied with the candle. He left the rest of his belongings with Aradia and his sheep; they would be safe there until after the contest.

Still, despite all his efforts, Jake arrived when the sun had already sunken halfway past the horizon. It was by no means "early" in the evening, but certainly, he couldn't be faulted for being slightly behind the clock. He didn't fancy watching all the prince's other suitors compete, anyhow, and this way, there was less of a crowd between he and the man he so desperately loved.

The onlookers did not take his tardiness quite so lightly, however. Being as beautiful and regal-looking as he was, Jake instantly caught the attentions of anyone else who happened to be in the city center that evening. His dress looked much, much finer than the ones worn by the local lasses and, indeed, gave the heiresses and ladies from further-away estates a run for their money. There were no girls who had quite the audacity to show up even half as late as Jake did; thus, all in attendance assumed he was actually a princess whose carriage had broken down somewhere along the road, and had been forced to walk the rest of the way.

The prince, too, noticed what appeared to be a stunning maiden, nearly two hours late. Though taken with her attractive aesthetics as he was, he was not so quick to fall in love as Jake was. Being a love-at-first-sight skeptic who cared for far more than mere visual appeal, he immediately put her other traits to the test by sending a servant her way to retrieve her for competition.

In the next minute, Jake found himself being led to the prince by one of the fellows in his company, surprised that he was to compete already. Why, he'd only just arrived! His heart leapt up to his throat, adrenaline running in his veins as he wondered just what he'd say to the prince! It was too late to think of something, however: Jake was already standing right in front of him.

"Good evening," the prince spoke first, bowing to "her" with an elegant, regal flair.

"G-good evening," Jake answered back, fumbling over his words clumsily, and remembering to curtsy in return halfway through his reply. He was unaccustomed to it, and very nearly dropped the pitcher he was holding. It was only luck that he managed to regain his footing rather quickly. That made him sigh in relief. Spilling a bottomless pitcher could have disastrous results.

One of the prince's eyebrows rose above his shaded visor. Jake didn't catch the subtle movement, but it was a sure sign that he was deeply amused by the refined maiden whose behavior was anything but. Undoubtedly, he enjoyed the deep irony of the situation. Jake had caught his attention, that's for certain.

"May I ask this fine lady her name?" the prince finally questioned, allowing his shades to slide down his regally arched nose.

Handsome eyes of almost unnaturally bright amber met the deep emerald of Jake's and he completely forgot where he was and what he was doing. Utterly hypnotized, he replied, "I'm Jake... Jake Harley."

The prince's amused eyebrow dropped and the other eyebrow rose in what was clearly some variety of confusion, "Your name is Jake? Forgive me if I'm wrong, which is possible since I'm not from around here, but I wasn't aware that both women and men used that name."

"It's, er, short for my real name!" Jake hurriedly made up, suddenly realizing that he was, indeed, currently trying to be a woman. He scratched his mind for another name as quickly as he could before continuing, "My, uh, full name is Jakqueline, but I daresay that's quite a mouthful. It's only practical to shorten it!"

"Hm. I see," this made the very corner of the prince's mouth tilt upwards, his amusement reaching previously unheard of levels. "I'll agree with you on that one. I go by the abbreviation 'Dirk' myself."

Jake grinned at him, for the prince definitely didn't look much like a fellow who would go by Diedrick, "It's a lovely name. I think it suits you!"

With just the slightest bit more warmth than before, Dirk replied, "You may call me by it, then, miss Jake."

"All right then, sir Dirk!" Jake beamed right back, the incredible brightness of his smile already beginning to grow on the prince.

One of Dirk's servants coughed conspicuously, "The contest, your highness."

"Right," Dirk finally stepped away from the shepherd in disguise. He hadn't even noticed that they'd accidentally gotten closer. He repeated the rules for the latecomer, "For the first contest, I request that you accomplish a feat of poise. I will dance with you, and you must balance the pitcher you brought with you on your head. Tomorrow morning, I will announce the names of those who pass this contest and will be allowed to continue. If your name is not on the list, you must extinguish the candle you have lit. Otherwise, I request that you keep it alight until you are eliminated. Do you understand this?"

"Yessir!" Jake answered resolutely before gulping nervously. It couldn't be an easy task to accomplish, judging by the stains of wine and cider already littering what Jake realized must have been an outfit worn expressly for this contest. He carefully balanced the jug atop his head, though he trembled in nervousness. Should he fail this test, he would lose Dirk for ever.

A handful of servants started playing music: two violins, a viola, and a cellist. Dirk bowed politely and Jake slowly, carefully curtsied back. Their hands met, and though both wore gloves, the touch made Jake's skin tingle. He almost shivered in delight, but quelled it to avoid tipping over the pitcher that sat on his head. Then, Dirk's other arm rested at his waist in what was the traditional pose for waltzing. Jake gently put his hand on Dirk's shoulder to complete the position. Even so, his knees were weakened by their mere proximity. The pitcher balanced precariously already. They both took a step, but Jake, unaccustomed to dancing as the lady (or dancing at all, really), moved with the wrong foot and then, it was all over.

The magic pitcher fell and spilled on the both of them, endless rivulets of the last beverage Jake had ordered from it drenching both of them. The beverage in question was a sweet pop, just unusual and exotic enough that it was Jake's favorite, flavored like the citrus fruit known to us as the "orange". It fizzed and bubbled unpleasantly against Jake's skin, and he sputtered blindly, groping for where he thought the pitcher might be, inadvertently hitting it back into the air. Such a mess was made that the dirt beneath their feet was turned to mud, which Jake promptly slipped in, falling straight on his derriere. By the time he could appropriately see again, the pitcher was on the floor, too, making a massive orange-flavored puddle where they'd been dancing.

"Are you all right?" Dirk asked, leaning down to turn the pitcher so that it was no longer spilling everywhere. He was quite a funny sight, with his visor askew and his clothes so soaked, there was no doubt they'd be stained orange for years to come. He offered a hand to Jake.

"Yes, I do believe so," Jake smiled back absently, still rather disoriented. He was just barely cognizant enough to reach out for Dirk's hand and let the prince help him up. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, his dress was very clearly ruined. Jake simply could not bring himself to care, however. "Would you mind terribly if we finished that dance?"

It surprised him a little, since most ladies would find dancing in drenched clothes a completely unpalatable idea, but Dirk agreed, "I'm game if you are."

They took up the pose again, and the musicians, not sure of what else to do, began playing again. Though Jake was still baffled, he managed to stumble through the dance steps, half-leaning on the prince. Dirk had also basically given up any sense of formality, wrapping both arms warmly around Jake's waist as the shepherd's arms were thrown round his neck. Their bodies were almost scandalously close, but they paid no heed, simply dancing as they wished, Jake's head on Dirk's chest (the prince was, indeed, much taller) and not caring where their feet were. The dance ended all too soon for the both of them.

"Thank you for the lovely dance," Jake said, lifting his head dizzily as the last notes died out. "I'm sorry I'm not very good at this."

"It's all right," Dirk replied, reluctantly releasing his arms from Jake's waist. "Thank you, as well. You're better than you think you are."

"Well... if you're certain," Jake lowered his eyes from that intimidating visor before he parted fully, bending down to extinguish the candle between the index and thumb of his damp glove. He handed it to the prince carefully before taking his leave, departing without the pitcher.

He hadn't noticed as he was dancing with Dirk, but the townspeople were staring at him as he left, and he shied under the feeling of a thousand gazes, all on him. He was oblivious to the clear judgement in their eyes, but the staring was beginning to get rather embarrassing. Why, there was nothing wrong with slipping in large puddles, failing to dance properly, brutally futzing up the only chance he had to win the heart of the man he was in love with...

OH.

It hit him quite belatedly that he'd brutally futzed up the only chance he had to win the heart of the man he loved. Though he'd known he was eliminated from the contest the very minute he'd dropped the pitcher, it hit him then that this was it. This was _it_. There were no second chances for Jake English, now that he'd messed up so badly. He doubted he'd have the chance to see his prince again.

They were calling for another maiden now, though they were almost certainly still cleaning up Jake's horrible mess. He didn't bother to stick around, unable to bear the sight of his love dancing with someone else. He made his way out of town, walking almost as quickly as he had entering it, his dress making disgustingly wet flopping sounds with every step. Jake didn't even realize how miserably wet he was because he was so upset at his failure. It wasn't until he reached the pasture's grass and the soaking, dirty skirts wouldn't budge any further that Jake had the idea to remove some of them. It was seconds after the idea hit him when he began undressing and tossing almost everything he was wearing into the river, deeming it unsalvageable. These clothes were found a few days later by a peasant girl several miles downstream, and they just about made her day.

Jake was absolutely in consolable, rolling on the ground half-naked and crying. He glanced up at the stars through teary eyes, looking to the heavens for guidance and hoping for a reply. What was he to do, now that his own clumsiness had cost him the chance to win his love?

"Hey, are you all right?" Aradia asked, looking down at him with all his sheep behind her. She'd been herding them back in, and had stumbled across Jake in his misery.

Jake sniffled, "No, I'm not. I messed up. Terribly."

"Oh no!" Aradia exclaimed, getting on her knees and petting Jake's soda-sticky hair. "I'm sure you didn't do as bad as you thought! It'll be ok."

"I spilled pop all over him," Jake's lower lip quivered, and for a second, he thought he might begin sobbing again. "It made an awful mess. I was supposed to balance the pitcher on my head... but I made a mistake dancing and it fell."

"Shhh," Aradia comforted him, engaging in motions not unlike papping. "Everything will be ok."

They sat there in the grass for a while, until Jake re-gained enough emotional stability to put on his normal things, which Aradia had thoughtfully brought with her. Then, they returned to the barn in which Jake lived, a small, two-tier affair with just enough room for the sheep on the lower levels and a platform on rafters above for the shepherd. Aradia made herself invisible when they passed through the town, and Jake only tried his best to do the same, not wanting to watch the proceedings of the contest. A very beautiful lass clad in soft blue was currently in Dirk's arms, and she seemed to be passing the test effortlessly.

Jake sullenly gazed at the ground as he walked, his combed-down hair serving as a makeshift curtain between he and the rest of the world. He spent the whole night thereafter sleeping like the dead to avoid the miserable reality that he lived in, and the fact that he had failed the first contest. Aradia held him as a sister would hold her brother, comforting him but knowing, through the use of extensive temporal machination, that everything, in the end, would, indeed, be all right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Somewhat notably, "Halley" is used interchangeably with "Harley", due to Jake's speech impediment thing. I should also put a warning for animal violence and character development somewhere on this thing.

**Disclaimer**: I just wrote a dumb story  
About Jake in a dress  
And if he were to read it,  
Hussie would not be impressed.

* * *

It was with great weight in his bones that Jake got up the next dawn, dredging himself from the stack of hay in which he slept. The sense of sadness was of such depth that he could hardly stand to glance at the shining sun, extending its rose-red fingers across the sky. It was ironic that the sun could beam so brightly while he was in such a terrible mood. He and Aradia, who had made herself invisible again, began herding the sheep out to the pasture through town.

Jake was so sullen that he'd completely forgotten his normal route would take him straight past the center of town, where all the townspeople were gathered, awaiting the prince's declaration of which maidens had passed the test. It was made even worse by the villagers milling around the place and gossiping. Jake would be obligated to wait until the congestion had cleared.

"Five silvers say the pink lady moves on!" he overheard someone shout.

"With the way she spilled at the end? I'll take you up on that."

"I heard the only thing that matters is how good you look when wet," one girl hissed irritably as she passed.

Her friend replied, "You're just jealous-"

"You think the princess passed?" a louder voice cut off.

"Princess? More like poseur," someone else scoffed back. "I've never seen a more pitiful spectacle in my life!"

"No, the blue one! Not the one in green..."

"Half a silver for a loaf of bread! Get your fresh bread right here!"

"It's a terribly barbaric trial, don't you think?"

"What a pity! Her dress was so nice."

"Terrible, terrible waste of wine-"

"... can you imagine? Oh, it's so romantic!"

Jake tried desperately to block out the myriad of voices, but it was just too difficult not to. Everyone was talking, each word taunting his misery. Only Aradia's hand, invisibly papping his shoulder, kept him from breaking into sobs. Waiting for his love to begin listing potential brides stabbed at Jake's heart no less than if it had been a dagger.

The prince then appeared, the early morning sun making his golden hair appear twice as gilt and his shining armor twice as well-shone, looking so very handsome that Jake's heart hurt twice as much. His horse trotted up to the platform, where he dismounted her with a soft pat on her neck before accepting a sheet of parchment from one of his servants. This made all the townspeople quiet down immediately.

Dirk cleared his throat and began to speak, "Good morning, citizens. I see you all are out here to hear the results of last night's contest. However, before I begin, I would like to explain how these results were chosen."

There was some grumbling at this, but eventually, the crowd became quiet again.

"The test was for poise," Dirk asserted. "A term which refers to not only the balance required to dance with a pitcher atop one's head, but also to the way one handles a situation. To remain poised in a situation of embarrassment is just as important, if not more so, than the ability to stand perfectly erect. Therefore, the following people will be proceeding..."

Jake's breath hitched. Could it be possible he hadn't failed the test after all? No, he didn't dare to hope too hard... but, still, there was a chance that even those who had failed to balance the pitcher could pass on to the next round. And that chance gave him just enough hope to make his heart fall hard in his chest every time Dirk said a name that wasn't his.

He'd just about given up when the final name was read, "And, lastly, Jakqueline Harley."

A grin broke out on Jake's face. He still had a chance! He could hardly believe it.

"I told you!" Aradia whispered excitedly, just as the townspeople started their murmuring gossip again. "I _knew_ you'd make it!"

"Thank you," Jake whispered back, so happy and relieved that he thought his smile might just fall off his face. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the villagers' comments died down just then and he didn't want to be the only one left talking- -to an invisible person, no less.

Dirk's eyes scanned the crowd, effectively intimidating them into quieting even behind his visor.

"The next contest will be a feat of practical prowess," he declared. "I request that the competitors capture an animal of their choosing, and bring it to town square before the sun is halfway beyond the horizon, reasonably subdued. Whether it's dead or alive doesn't matter, but difficult catches will work in your favor. Only the most impressive of these will proceed to the next round. We hope to see you again later today."

Mounting his horse, Dirk vacated the premises promptly, and Jake once more gazed at him longingly until he vanished from sight. He believed that he actually had a chance of winning, this time! He had loads of experience with animals, most particularly hunting them. Perhaps, if he brought back some sort of... oh, he didn't know, maybe a very large-antlered deer... no, that wouldn't quite cut it. Or perhaps a very large bird? Not likely, but that would be downright wicked and he'd have to think about that for a future taxidermy projects (as soon as he learned how to do taxidermy, that is). But then, he was stricken with a brilliant idea!

The reason that the forest he hunted in was owned by no-one was because one of its inhabitants was a large and terrible bear. It was horrifying and beastly, with razor-sharp claws and a mouth full of terrifying teeth. It was aggressive, too, and had claimed the lives of seven villagers over the course of the past year. He'd had the great fortune not to run into it yet, largely due to his good-luck charm, but now, it seemed that he had no choice but to search for it. Still, he hoped he'd face this task with great courage. Faint heart, after all, never won anyone's love.

He told Aradia as much, when he got to the pastures with her. She gasped in reply, "You're crazy!"

"That I may very well be," Jake admitted. "But I'm a fool for love."

"Well... okay," she relented hesitantly. "Here, let me outfit you better."

She passed cloth through the wreath once more, but its color had faded overnight from bright emerald green to a browner, pale olive tone. In minutes, Jake was clad in a lightweight dress that came only to his ankles. It was something he could easily move in, not unlike the variety one might wear to traipse through rose briars. His feet became clad in thick, woolen socks and a cloth that was charmed to behave exactly like leather. In the end, he looked very much the maiden he was pretending to be, so he would have no problem proving his identity to Dirk later.

With words of thanks, Jake slung his bow and quiver over his shoulder, strapped his pitcher to his belt, donned his wreath, and departed for the forest. Aradia wished him all the luck (all of it). She didn't doubt he'd need it.

In the first hour after entering the forest, Jake shot and killed a deer, accidentally believing it was the bear. It was just as well, he thought, removing one of its legs to expose the scent of the meat to the air so he could bait the bear. Halley came first, the huge wolf bounding through the trees, nearly as tall as Jake himself, though he was on all fours. He abandoned any idea of eating the deer carcass in favor of running up to Jake. His good boy/best friend was looking a little weird, but he definitely smelled okay, so Halley knew it was him.

Jake fed the wolf the removed leg of deer as he pet his bounds of fur, "Hey, Harley. Thanks again for staying away from the sheep. I'm trying to catch the bear in here today, so if you wouldn't mind it too terribly, I'd like it a lot if you didn't eat my bait."

Halley's eyes narrowed. The bear was his only challenger for the title of King of the Forest. Anything that would lead to its demise was a good idea in his books. Being an incredibly intelligent canine, he nodded at Jake and sat down beside him, eyes scanning the forest as if he were a guard dog. Both boy and wolf lay hidden behind vegetation, keeping a careful eye on the clearing where the bait lay.

The bear arrived after they'd waited about half a day. It lowered its head to sniff the meat, and that's when Jake struck. He very quickly fired four arrows at the bear, striking it twice in the side, once in the throat, and once through the ear. Secure enough in his victory, Jake whooped excitedly. The bear, infuriated and terrified by its pain, reared up in anger.

Jake fired one more arrow into its eye, hoping that would kill it. But, in a blind rage, the beast began running at Jake. He knew there was no way he could face that thing head-on. He ran away.

Even severely injured, the bear was faster than Jake was. Gaining on him quickly, the bear was intent on extracting its revenge. Halley, however, would not let him win so easily. The wolf lunged at his enemy in an effort to save the boy he loved so dearly and they fought for a minute before the bear managed to hit Halley's head, leaving three small gash-marks on his face. Leaving his rival to lick the wounds, the bear returned to pursuing Jake. Wolves were not good to eat, anyways.

Jake hadn't managed to get far enough to escape the bear's nose entirely, and it picked up on his scent easily. Jake stumbled into another clearing, turning around to fire at it another few times in desperation. He hadn't the time to focus. All three arrows hit its stomach, and only served to infuriate it more, or perhaps slow its attack. He shut his eyes as the bear leapt at him, not wishing to see his own gruesome end.

But then, with a ringing cry and the flash of a shining blade, the bear fell to the ground, deceased, its head laying upside down half a foot away from Jake.

"Are you all right?" a very familiar voice asked Jake, tentatively resting a hand on his shoulder.

Jake's eyes creaked open, and he was certain he was dead. There was no other way Prince Dirk could possibly be here.

But, indeed, he was. It just so happened that Dirk was told the forests to the south of town were most dangerous and, worried that he may have accidentally sent a maiden to her death, he hurried himself into the forest's depths just in case something like this happened. It was sheer luck that Dirk heard the angry bear and managed to rescue Jake in time.

"Are you all right?" Dirk repeated, beginning to believe Jake was frozen in shock.

"Er, yes," Jake finally realized that Dirk was trying to talk to him. "I'm fine. I don't suppose I can still submit that for the contest, can I?"

The very corners of Dirk's mouth twitched upwards in amusement. Jake was certainly something else, that's for sure.

"No, sorry," he answered. "But, damn, I commend you for trying. It was probably half-dead by the time I got here. What even gave you the idea to take on this thing? You nuts or something?"

"Oh, I don't know," Jake blushed sheepishly. "I just was sort of... struck with the idea."

"Don't do it again," Dirk advised sternly, his visor slipping down his nose as he looked Jake in the eyes. He laid a hand on Jake's face tenderly. "It's dangerous."

Jake was so hypnotized by Dirk's eyes of beautiful orange that the couldn't help but nod and say, "Okay. I won't. I promise."

The spell was broken when Halley trotted into the clearing with blood on his muzzle. Dirk flinched at the sight of the wolf, fully prepared to defend Jake against it, as well. He was taken aback when Jake ran towards it instead of shying away.

"Halley!" Jake cried in concern for his good dog, best friend. The wolf allowed his worried boy to stroke his fur. "You're hurt!"

Halley barked and Dirk almost withdrew his sword at the sight of all those sharp teeth.

"Shhh," Jake hushed the animal as he ripped the sleeve off his dress, wrapping the fabric around Halley's injuries to staunch the blood. "Land sakes alive, you must have gotten into a terrible fight!"

Halley began to nod. It was then that he noticed Dirk. Tall, metal man with a sharp, pointy thing did not sit well with him. He snarled at the prince, daring him to just _try_ hurting his boy.

Dirk, by now, was convinced that the animal was feral. He drew his sword, ready to attack.

"Dirk? What in the blazes are you doing?" Jake looked up from Halley suddenly. "Is there some sort of danger afoot?"

"Jake," Dirk replied tersely. "Step away from the animal."

"What, you mean Halley?" Jake cocked his head, looking rather puzzled. "Why, whatever for? He's my best friend!"

"He's a wild animal," Dirk didn't dare take his eyes from the wolf for a second.

This prompted Jake to take a look at Halley, who was, indeed, baring his teeth in Dirk's direction. Halley liked the stranger even less now that he could see the sharp, pointy thing out of its sheath, and curled around Jake protectively.

"Halley, no, he's not going to hurt us!" Jake laughed uproariously, as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "Dirk is a friend!"

Halley gave his boy a questioning look, doubting the assertion, but mostly trusting his judgement. Jake patted the wolf's fur until he calmed down a little.

"Dirk, why don't you put that sword down and say hello?" Jake beamed at him. "I'm fairly certain he won't bite you."

"Only _fairly_ certain?" Dirk asked wryly. Jake was something else, that was for sure. Feeling especially daring, he at last decided, "All right. I'll humor you."

He dropped his sword to the grass and walked to the wolf, kneeling down beside Jake. Halley, comforted by the fact he'd dropped his weapon, began to sniff at Dirk, familiarizing himself with the scent. Content with this assessment, Halley dropped his guard. For now.

"Good wolf," Jake smiled, petting the lupine again. "Best friend."

Dirk raised his hand and hesitantly scratched Halley behind his ears, which was his favorite spot to be soothed. That made Dirk pretty OK in Halley's books, he supposed. Maybe some steak would get him to actually like the prince.

"It's amazing," Dirk finally said after a few moments of silence.

"What is?" inquired Jake.

"They way you interact with... what did you call him? Harley, right?" replied Dirk. "He's wild, but his behavior is tame. And he's very protective of you. I've never seen anyone capture the heart of an animal so completely before."

Halley barked, as if in agreement.

Jake blushed, "I'm quite flattered, really, but I wouldn't quite say that! We're more bosom compatriots than anything else. Why, he's practically my family!"

Dirk leaned in closer, allured by Jake's flushed cheeks and humble words, "That's... admirable. I feel the same about my horse, Maplehoof. We sorta... take care of each other. I've known her since she was a foal. She's a good horse. My best friend."

Breaking out into the broadest grin he'd ever made, Jake replied, "You understand it, then!"

"Yeah," breathed Dirk, his nose very nearly touching Jake's. "Yeah, I do."

And then, they kissed.

Sparks lit up behind Jake's eyelids as he reeled with shock from the kiss, Dirk's cool lips against his warm ones. Being his very first kiss, he was overwhelmed by how pleasant it was, and the implications that came with it. Dirk had kissed him. That meant he loved him, too... right? Oh, he didn't dare hope! But he melted under Dirk's pleasant affections, warmed by the heat of his own love.

Halley whined, and Dirk broke the kiss. It was over too soon for Jake, but he couldn't quite muster up the courage to initiate a second kiss.

"It's getting late in the day," Dirk said, voice sounding almost completely unfazed by the kiss though his heart pounded in his chest. "I shouldn't keep you any longer."

Jake glanced at the sky, and the sun was already descending in it. It would only be a few hours before it fell halfway past the horizon.

"I-" Jake began to say, intending to tell Dirk he could stay as long as he wanted. Then, he remembered that he still had a contest to win. "All right. I suppose I'll see you later?"

"Yes," Dirk half-smiled, looking at Jake with soft emotions in his eyes. He pulled Jake's candle from one of his pockets, "Here, take it back. I trust you'll see to it being re-lit before I see you again this evening?"

"Absolutely," Jake grinned breathlessly.

And then Dirk left, departing from the forest altogether since the threats of the bear and the wolf were both neutralized.

This left Jake to his worries, concerned that, now he had less than half a day to find an animal for capture, he would fail the task altogether. Halley nuzzled his boy, upset that Dirk's departure made him so anxious.

"Oh, Halley!" Jake fretted, biting his lower lip. "What shall I do? It takes so much time to walk back to town, I've only a couple hours before the contest time's up! Perhaps I can catch a rabbit, or even herd in one of my sheep? But those aren't impressive at all, and I'm certain that won't let me pass the contest. Do you suppose that deer is still there? I really don't think I've the time to find another... Oh, Jesus kicking Christ in a wheelbarrow!"

Halley cocked his head in confusion, worried by Jake's panic. Was he hurt? Halley sniffed him for injuries, but found none. Maybe he was sick. Halley, being an exceptionally intelligent wolf, knew that sometimes humans went to other people for healing. He thought he'd better get his boy to somewhere for treatment, before he perished of what ailed him.

The wolf snagged the back of Jake's dress with his teeth and tossed him onto his back, the huge beast running towards the town. He was completely loyal to Jake, and would do anything to help the boy he so loved. Jake yelped and clutched Halley's fur as he struggled to stay atop the running lupine.

"Halley, no! I've got to finish the contest!" Jake exclaimed in alarm. The wolf ignored him; clearly, finding a doctor was a more important task, and whatever else Jake had to say could wait until later.

Jake was forced to ride Halley all the way to the center of town, and by then, the bottom curve of the sun was kissing the horizon. It was far too late to even hope to find a beast that would meet the contest's criteria by that point, and so Jake sighed and gave up, burying his face in Halley's abundant white fur. It seemed there was nothing he could do except show up in town square with his candle lit, just as he'd promised Dirk.

One of the lit streetlamps was in reaching distance when Jake was atop Halley's back, and so he used it to light his candle before requesting that Halley sit. Of course, the wolf complied. Any minute now, the doctor should come. He figured humans probably had a sense of these sorts of things, otherwise they'd never know if something was wrong with someone in their pack.

The villagers and other contestants began showing up to the town's center, but most were scared away by the large wolf and what appeared to be a maiden sitting on it, one hand stroking its hair and the other carrying a lit candle. However, they knew it was a feral animal, and quite possibly the cause of a few hunters' deaths. Terrified by the huge beast, even those who dared to stay were wary, and kept their distance.

There was, therefore, minimal competition. A lady who had caught a mockingbird alive in a cage stood the closest to Jake. Another maiden brought the corpse of a hard-won buck, if the tears in her clothing were any indication of what had transpired. Everything from squirrels to snakes were gathered in the square, and Jake felt rather silly for failing to catch anything. He was supposed to be _good_ at the hunting thing!

Halley waited patiently, eyeing all the food around him with suspicion. As much as he would have loved to tear into that deer (or, for that matter, the woman holding it), he knew it was only somebody trying to tempt him away from his guard on Jake. Well, too bad for them! He would wait right here until someone came and made his boy feel better.

The sun's center was almost on the horizon when Dirk stepped out to judge the captures, a sight that made Jake's heart ache with want. He looked as handsome in the twilight as he did in the dawn, the sun casting upon him the perfect blend of shadow and light. Methodically, he began to speak to each woman, commenting on their animals, even as other contestants continued to show up. All in all, of the twenty-four round two contestants, only a dozen managed to arrive on time with the task completed.

At last, after an agonizing wait, the prince came to Jake, his servants and guards all warning him not to go near the wolf. All such warnings were ignored as he bent down to pet Halley's head, careful of the injury still wrapped in the strip of Jake's dress.

"Hello," Jake half-whispered, unable to find the entirety of his voice.

"Hey," Dirk replied, giving Halley a scritch behind his ear. "I'm very impressed by your capture. Like I said... I don't know anyone who's managed to capture the heart of an animal the way you've got this wolf's."

As before, Jake began to protest, as much from surprise as from the principle, "But it's not really a capture, is it?"

"Depends on how you look at it," Dirk answered, his visor slipping down his nose. He winked, "But for argument's sake, let's say it is."

Jake suddenly realized exactly what Dirk's intent here was. He smiled at him, "Well... if you're positive."

"I am," the corners of his mouth lifted. Dirk took the hand off Halley's head and reached into his pocket with it, withdrawing a cut of steak wrapped in brown butcher paper. This, he placed before the wolf, "Hey there, Halley. Thanks for not eating anyone."

Halley sniffed the steak and woofed happily before eating it. He could let himself do that, since his boy seemed to be feeling so much better. Jake grinned at Dirk, chuckling softly.

"You're quite a character, if I do say so myself," Jake beamed, completely smitten with Dirk's every aspect. He had a multi-faceted personality, and every facet Jake saw only endeared him to him more.

"That's funny," Dirk remarked affectionately. He gazed into Jake's eyes as he said, "I could say the same about you."

Jake's cheeks reddened, and he found himself unable to form a coherent sentence, finally managing to sputter out a "Thank you."

Dirk smiled at him before moving on.

Jake got the feeling that everything would turn out okay.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: Finally, it's done! Sorry the third installment took so long; I was sick for a while and then school stuff happened. But, yes, the "Jake in a dress" story wraps up here. Hope it's enjoyable.

**Disclaimer**: Homestuck is something that I don't own,  
And why that is I know not.  
All I'm aware is that Hussie pwns  
And of stealing I won't be caught.

* * *

Rather fortunately, Aradia had taken care of the sheep by the time Jake managed to get Halley somewhere he could return to the woods, and she happened to have the ingenious idea of bringing him his normal clothing along, as well. Jake was rather grateful for that.

Recounting the day's events to Aradia on the way back gave them both plenty of time to catch up. She, too, told him with great enthusiasm about how each of his sheep were doing. In a good mood, he returned home far later than usual, but still completely content with everything.

The next morning was cloudy- indeed, one could even describe it as overcast. Still, thanks to Aradia's careful keep on the time of day, Jake was up in time to make it into town to hear the results of last night's contest, right on schedule.

The sheep bleated noisily and huddled around Aradia, though she was invisible to everyone else, as everyone waited to hear which maiden had made it on to the final round.

It was but a minute before Jake began to hear the clopping of hooves, and saw Dirk emerging into the light. He was more handsome today than he had been even yesterday, though the sun didn't illuminate him the same way. He was tall and handsome as ever, but Jake saw how passively he led Maplehoof's reins. It was as if the horse was in as much control as he was, respecting her decisions.

There was no parchment today as Dirk dismounted and began to speak, "Greetings, villagers, one and all. I've determined the winner of last night's contest. The girl with the most successful capture was Jakqueline Harley, for managing to lead a wolf into this very square."

Dirk's eyes scanned the crowd, searching out the girl he loved amongst the mob of townsfolk. He didn't see her, which worried him, but he still trusted she would show up to the third and final test.

"I hope to see her later today, back at this location," Dirk finally said after a moment's pause. "The last test is one of personality. The lady must bring her candle and nothing else, and then we will speak in private. The conditions of this last test must remain a secret. Should the maiden succeed in the challenge, I will take her as my bride."

Maiden. That word clung to Jake's mind for a second. He'd almost forgotten that he had no business competing, because he wasn't a maiden. And, no matter how he dressed, he never would be one, either, because that wasn't him. His stomach rapidly sunk. Even if he managed to emerge victorious from all three contests, he'd never be able to truly wed his prince. After all, weren't royal people obsessed with carrying on their lineage? Why, he'd be unable to give Dirk any children.

... If Dirk even wanted anything to do with him at all after he found out Jake was actually a shepherd boy, and not a fair lady. He wondered absently if it was possible to avoid ever telling Dirk that he was a man, but he nixed that idea immediately. Lying to someone he loved as much as he loved Dirk didn't sit well with him at all.

Seeing that Dirk was going to wait until his alter-ego showed up, Jake hurried through the town inconspicuously, leading his sheep out to the pasture.

"What do I do?" Jake asked Aradia worriedly upon their arrival.

"What do you mean, what do you do?" she sounded utterly mystified. "I make you another dress, and you go win the man you love, of course!"

"But I'm not a maiden, and he thinks I am," Jake said morosely.

"Well, then, if that bothers you, tell him!" Aradia smiled. "It's pretty simple."

"That's... that's it?" Jake asked tentatively.

"Well, yeah, that's it," Aradia grinned. "I mean, the worst that could happen is that he decapitates you! That's not too bad."

Jake gulped and his hand came up to his throat, "I'd, er, like to try to avoid that."

Aradia shrugged, "Suit yourself!"

Jake sighed and looked down at his lap. As she had the day before, Aradia vanished into thin air and then appeared over the horizon, carrying bundles of cloth in one arm and Jake's lit candle in the other. Jake shook his head. He didn't know how she did it.

It took all of ten minutes for Jake to scrub himself clean. In another two minutes, they were passing cloth through his wreath again. Jake noticed, perhaps a bit sadly, that the leaves had faded to a pale yellowy-golden color, but he supposed that it couldn't be helped. Another minute later, Jake was wearing a third dress, the most opulent of any cloth he'd ever worn, even when his parents were alive and he was still the son of a lord.

He could hardly recognize himself as he gazed at the lady reflected in the stream, her butter-yellow skirts swishing above the grass and her long, white lace gloves dancing like vines up her arms. The breasts of the vest he was wearing were embossed with white angel wings, a most peculiar design. He half-wished it was something badass like a skull, but he supposed that wouldn't really suit the occasion.

"Uh. Gosh," Jake said. He felt like a whole other person, and not truly himself at all. "Wow."

"You look great!" Aradia gave him a grin and a thumbs up. "Now hurry back to town; you don't want to keep your prince waiting!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Jake beamed back, positively enthralled by the idea of seeing Dirk again, perhaps even spending some time with him alone, as was promised in the description of the task.

Lifting his skirts and stepping briskly, Jake hurried to the square where he knew Dirk awaited, his hair flying messily around the wreath he wore. The sky just grew cloudier is he walked, and each cloud grew heavier by the second. It looked like it was going to rain any minute. Rather fortunately, and perhaps by the influence of Jake's lucky wreath, when the first drops fell Jake was already by Dirk's side, curtsying before the prince as he bowed in return.

"Miss Jake," Dirk said with a tint of warmth in his voice. He bent and kissed Jake's hand. "I'm glad you made it here."

Happy to be with his love, Jake smiled radiantly, "Sir Dirk. Thank you for having me."

"No problem," Dirk replied, with so much affection it would have been obvious if not for his visor. "You're a pleasure. Would you allow me to escort you in?"

"Of course," Jake breathed, accepting Dirk's arm, the candle in his other hand burning brightly.

Dirk led him into the manor, his entire entourage of servants and royal officials in tow. One by one, they departed, as the prince ventured deeper and deeper into the manor's depths, until at last but one guard remained. This guard took stance beside the door to a small, cozy room in one of the manor's hidden niches.

Bowing as he opened the door, Dirk offered, "After you."

Jake smiled, "Thank you."

He stepped into a small sitting room, lit by four colored oil lanterns, cloth comfortably draped over two large chairs facing each other, with but a small table between them. It looked remarkably comfortable, especially to Jake, who usually slept on hay or huddled up to his sheep.

Dirk placed a gentle hand on Jake's shoulder and said, "Please put your candle on the table and have a seat. We'll be here a while."

Jake did as he was bade, curious about what task he was set to complete. The room was entirely too cozy-looking for it to be any sort of dueling task, which he'd briefly thought about, considering that Dirk was a warrior prince and all that. Maybe he'd be forced to embroider all the cloth in the room as Dirk watched? Oh, lord have mercy, he hoped not. Jake hadn't the foggiest idea how to sew. Was he supposed to fashion an escape rope out the single, small window in the room? It was possible, especially since Dirk seemed like such an adventurous chap. It would make sense to have a maiden who knew how to make rope around. Or, perhaps, could it be some sort of bizarre cuddling challenge? Pleasant though that would be, he doubted it.

Once they'd settled into the chairs opposite each other, Dirk finally spoke, "I'm sure you're wondering what the last test is."

Nodding vigorously, Jake answered the rhetorical statement, "Yes, I'm itching to know, indeed!"

This elicited a small smile from Dirk. Jake was something else, that was for certain.

"You're going to have to talk to me," the prince continued. "That candle's your timer. When it's melted, your time's up."

Jake looked at the candle nervously. Perhaps eight hours more remained.

"What do I, er, talk about?" he asked hesitantly.

"Anything," Dirk shrugged. "Maybe you should start by telling me whether or not you want this back."

He withdrew Jake's magic pitcher from a drawer within the table, along with two crystal glasses, which he filled.

"Oh, that," Jake said. He'd honestly forgotten about it. Wishing for Dirk to always have a reminder of the person who gave it to him, Jake impulsively answered, "Keep it. I'd much rather you have it."

Dirk raised a questioning eyebrow, "Are you sure? It's some pretty amazing shit, between the bottomless magic and the orange drink."

"Yes, I'm really quite certain," Jake asserted enthusiastically. "It suits you better, I believe. I haven't really got any business drinking anything as fancy as pop."

"What makes you think that?" Dirk inquired, noting down the beverage's name as 'pop'. Having already discovered the pitcher's ability to change what it held, it had taken him ages to get back to the orange-flavored drink, his favorite. "You're among the finest of ladies I've had the pleasure to meet."

Jake averted his eyes, gazing sullenly at the floor. Hearing Dirk use a term that defined him as feminine only reminded him that his appearance was a mere ruse, and not his true self. The rough-and-tumble shepherd boy he was in actuality was concealed by the fair maiden that Dirk wanted to marry.

Feeling rather terribly, Jake replied, "I'm not really a lady."

"To whom you were born matters not to me," said Dirk comfortingly, even affectionately. "You could be the poorest peasant, without a drop of royal blood in your veins, and you'd still be a lady by heart."

"No," Jake declared more loudly, suddenly firm in his resolution. He was afraid still, but he just couldn't bear the secrecy anymore. "I'm _not_ a lady."

And then he told Dirk everything: how he was truly a boy; how he'd spent nearly half his life herding sheep; how he'd fallen madly in love with the prince at first sight; how Aradia had dressed him as a maiden so he could compete. He wept for his deception, feeling awful that he'd lied so horribly to the one he loved. Jake explained how he was truly the son of the dead Lord English, whose title had been stolen by a power-hungry countess. He told of his mentor, the one from whom he'd received three fairy gifts. He spoke of everything from living as a shepherd to wanting to travel to how he'd suddenly found himself falling for a stranger. The whole story was detailed, from start to finish. By the time Jake was complete, the candle had nearly run out.

Dirk remained silent, listening carefully to Jake's words. His eyebrows attempted to knit themselves together, for he was so deep in thought.

"I see," he said, after a long pause. Then he asked, "What do you think is suitable punishment for attempting to deceive me?"

Jake sniffled and wiped away his tears, "I- I do believe I should be killed for it."

He choked up with sobs of fear and cried miserably, knowing that he deserved to suffer the consequences of his actions. Death was the standard penalty for treason, and if Jake's lies didn't qualify as such, then little else did.

Once he'd managed to recompose himself a bit more, Jake continued waveringly, "I can only hope you'll have the mercy to make it quick."

He fell to the floor, lying prostrate and weak, his eyes shut and still leaking tears. Shaking with silent sobs (and perhaps one or two of the not-so-silent variety), he waited for a killing blow from the prince's sword. There was the _shhk_ of metal on hardened leather as Dirk unsheathed his blade.

"Have you any final requests?" Dirk questioned coolly, without any visible or audible emotion. "I may be inclined to indulge you."

Jake allowed himself to look up slightly, his cheeks still stained with tears. After a bit of thought, he sniffed hard and suggested timidly, 'I... yes. I've but one request."

There was an uncomfortable silence as Jake gathered his bravery once more. Few shreds remained after his confession, but the mere prospect of getting his request granted was enough to make him scour up enough courage to say it: "Just... one more kiss. Please."

"One kiss?" asked Dirk, an eyebrow raised. "And that's all? It's worth dying for one kiss?"

Jake's voice trembled, but still he answered, "Yes. Everything would have been worth it, if only you would give me one last kiss."

Dirk dropped his sword, the solid metal thudding harmlessly against the soft rugs that blanketed the floor. He seized Jake by the shoulders, pulling him up to stand as he wrapped his arms around him and they kissed. Jake, half in shock, threw his arms over Dirk's shoulders and kissed back with all the fervor he had, knowing that this kiss would be his last. Mouth slid against mouth, and clumsy buckteeth slipped over refined lip to tug at it. They escaped time by losing track of it; whether it was for five seconds or five minutes was indiscernible.

At last, Dirk released Jake from the lengthy liplock with a wet-sounding smack, only to kiss his face over and over, reverently loving in each of his actions. Confusedly, Jake returned each endearment, equal parts infatuated and bewildered. He was unable to fit in a word edgewise between kisses, for they left him so breathless. Dirk didn't cease his onslaught of affection until Jake was starting to feel a little dizzy from oxygen deprivation.

"You passed," Dirk breathed before Jake could even think of speaking.

"Passed what?" he managed to say back.

"The test," explained Dirk, before pressing another highly confusing kiss to Jake's lips. "The _real_ test."

"Oh," replied Jake, somewhat dazedly blissful. "I'm afraid I haven't the foggiest idea what you mean by that."

"I knew," said Dirk. He held Jake's body close to his. "I've known since the first contest. I had a servant follow you after you left. The real third contest is a test of honesty, Jake. And you passed it."

Jake, still rather befuddled, exclaimed, "You can't possibly mean to say all the other competitors were chaps, too!"

"No, no," Dirk let a smile slip from his close-guarded expression. Jake was just something else. "But everyone has skeletons in their closets, secrets they would never tell, not even to a man they intended to marry. I send servants to spy on the maidens who pass the first contest and discover their darkest secrets. In the event they are the victor of the second contest, I prod them to be as honest with me as possible. Each previous contestant failed to admit their secret flaws and follies. But you... you told the truth. You've defeated all three challenges."

"But the one who defeats all three challenges is to be your bride!" Jake exclaimed in confusion. Weren't princes obsessed with carrying on their lineage, or things like that?

"So you shall be," answered Dirk, raising an amused eyebrow. "Unless you'd prefer not to. But your request for a kiss implies otherwise."

"Well- I... yes," Jake finally stuttered out. "Yes, I love you, Dirk. And I would very much like to be your bride, indeed! But you're quite certain it's all right? You haven't any other obligations related to finding a wife?"

"It's fine, Jake," Dirk caressed his face, trailing the tips of his fingers from Jake's cheekbone to his jaw. "I could care less what equipment you've got under that skirt. I have two brothers; they can deal with making heirs. All _I_ want is love."

"That's quite fortunate," Jake beamed, relief flooding his veins. "I'm afraid I've not more to give than just love."

This turn of phrase filled Dirk's heart with affection and he bent his head to kiss Jake again, with perhaps less urgency but no less passion. The tender peck prompted Jake to kiss right back, happy that he could wed his prince and that he wouldn't have to die. Powerful hands held Jake around the waist and Jake's fingers found comfortable rest against Dirk's upper arms. They broke for a second- nay, half a second- before diving back for more, Dirk's cooler lips enthralling Jake's warmer ones. As he groaned, Jake's tongue flicked out for an experimental taste and, playfully, Dirk's nudged back, engaging in a brief dance before slipping into Jake's mouth, tasting him more fully.

A crash of thunder from outside interrupted what was otherwise an exceedingly pleasant kiss, making them both jump with shock. Jake accidentally bit Dirk's tongue, hard enough to hurt but not enough to cause blood loss, and they burst away from each other, both swearing as sailors do. After a brief litany, Dirk slapped a hand over his mouth and began breathing through it, the pain seething still.

"I'm terribly, terribly, terribly sorry!" Jake cried in alarm, worried he'd hurt his lover.

"It's fine," Dirk answered, still in pain, but not enough to hinder his speech. "Not your fault."

"Oh..." Jake fretted, pinching his lower lip between his teeth in concern. "If you're positive, I suppose not."

"I am," Dirk replied, scrunching his nose at the lingering throb.

Jake found that expression particularly adorable, especially with Dirk's freckles, and pecked the leftmost dot affectionately, "Is there anything I can do?"

"No," the pain in Dirk's tongue was beginning to fade. "I'm good. We'll be stuck in here for a while, though, on account of the thunderstorm. Fuckin' oracle got the weather forecast wrong again, of course."

"I haven't the vaguest clue what that means, but all right!" exclaimed Jake, having never heard of oracles before. "I daresay that it's good company, at least!"

Softly nuzzling Jake's cheek, Dirk acquiesced, "Yeah, it is."

"There doesn't seem like a terrible lot to do here, though, " Jake sighed. "It's rather unfortunate there isn't much adventuring to be done in a room like this."

"It's a little warm, too," Dirk commented. "Nothin' as hot as the Sahara, but pretty damn warm."

"I'll agree with you on that," Jake nodded, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. "You're wearing a terrible lot of armor for the situation, and I'm not exactly underdressed either."

"And what situation would that be?" Dirk smirked, leaning in to Jake more closely.

"Oh, you know," Jake blushed, feeling even warmer from the proximity of their bodies. "You. And me. In this sweltering room, with lots of lit lanterns, and nothing to do. Just the _situation_."

"Well," Dirk began to unbuckle his breastplate. "You wouldn't mind too much if I took some of this off, would you? It's more for formality than battle at the moment."

"No, not at all!" Jake replied, a new idea suddenly occurring to him. "As long as it doesn't bother you if I strip to my breeches. I'm not terribly used to wearing this much myself."

"Doesn't bother me," Dirk raised the metal over his head and dropped it. His breastplate fell to the floor with a muffled _clunk_. "I'd like to see how you really look. Without all the skirts."

Jake undid his vest and clumsily began to unbutton his gown, "And then what?"

Dirk shed the rest of his armor rapidly as he replied, "Don't know. If you want to hear 'em, I've got stories to tell. I've been plenty of places."

Beaming brightly, Jake eagerly exclaimed, "Oh, would I ever! I _do_ adore adventure tales."

Once they were both clad in their more comfortable underclothing, they sat beside each other, all lights but one extinguished. Jake donned just his vest and a pair of knee-long breeches, while Dirk wore only his pantaloons and shirt, fully bared to each other as nothing but the boys they were. No titles, no falsehoods, no class boundaries stood between them when they were dressed like this.

"So," Dirk swung his arm around Jake's shoulders. "Let me tell you about that time my crew and I fought off a caravan of thieves in Arabia."

"I'm all ears!" Jake grinned enthusiastically back, giving Dirk his undivided attention.

And so did the two men lay together for the night remaining, affection evident in every word they exchanged.

* * *

The next morning, the couple announced the results of the contest before the town, clad in full regalia, their facades re-erected. This was followed by a less-than-direct path back to the Germanys, from where Dirk originated, one that took more than one year and perhaps involved more adventure than entirely necessary. Following them all along the way was Halley, who couldn't be brought to abandon his boy, and Aradia, who'd decided to bring all the sheep along.

Upon their return to Dirk's home country, Jake and Dirk were immediately married in a lavish ceremony to which all their friends were invited, including Jake's former mentor (who agreed not to tell about Jake's secret) and Halley the wolf. They had loads of fun recounting their adventures together, and soon set off to make even more together, readily taking on the world with their love.

Dirk's younger brother, Hal, and his offspring, Hal the Second, became the kings of the country and ran it with machinelike accuracy. Hal Jr. was especially famous for his laconic-but-wise responses to any situation that arose during his reign: "Hmm," "Yes," and "Interesting."

As for Halley, he moved into the prince's private hunting grounds and was king of the forest. His half-wolf pup, Becquerel, came to be the world's greatest hunting dog, and always accompanied Dirk and Jake on their hunting expeditions whenever they needed a dog.

Over the years, the couple managed to cover up their lack of children with various infertility issues, Jake's secret identity remaining untold until he and Dirk died many, many, many years later. Historians would write about the noble, quick-witted prince and his beautiful, charming wife for ages after they'd passed on, and so did their tale of true love thrive evermore- however many falsehoods may be in it, the obvious affection always remained the same.

And everyone lived happily ever after.

* * *

The End


End file.
